The Rolling Chestnut

I slipped beneath the gate and walked along the sidewalk until I reached the park's low stone wall. In the grass beside the curb, a round, polished buckeye caught my eye. I nudged it out into the open. Scooping the smooth nut between my long sleeves, I set it on the wall's slanted stone edge. One quiet push... and it tumbled downward, clicking against each rough ridge before dropping neatly into my waiting sleeve at the bottom. A muffled murmur rose in my throat. Watching its steady roll was strangely satisfying. I carried it back to the high end, ready to let it glide once more.